


Bordeaux

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: (Slight) Internalized Homophobia, Developing Relationship, Euros 2016, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, M/M, Neuller Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: What happens in Bordeaux most definitely does not stay in Bordeaux.Or, the story of how Manuel and Thomas became a couple.





	Bordeaux

**Author's Note:**

> This is it. This is how I imagine the Neuller origin story in most of my verses. You've probably seen hints of it here and there, or even in my friend [juliansweigl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliansweigl/)'s stories, but it was only a prompt from tumblr that prompted me to finally write this.
> 
> The prompt was "I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified" - sorry I made it not that angsty, anonymous prompter! Enjoy!

Thomas has felt on edge ever since Bordeaux.

The semifinal, their loss against France, even the general disappointment that spread inside the team the second they stepped off the pitch and realized they had to go home one game too early – Thomas lived through all of it as if through a haze.

It had been a long time coming, their kiss – kisses, plural, he reminds himself, if you could even call the one on the pitch that – the cumulation if a several-week-long dance of attraction between himself and Manuel, of Thomas' subtle flirting and Manu's cheeks being tinted pink by the obvious flattery and the less obvious, more serious undertones where Thomas tried to communicate his genuine romantic interest in the least invasive way possible.

For Thomas, it had been a gamble.

Up until Bordeaux, he hadn't known if his feelings were reciprocated, or if he'd only imagined Manu's subtle glances, the ways his eyes would follow him under the shower, the way his – and he hated calling it that – gaydar always started blaring whenever the tall blond was close, so loudly that Thomas wondered how he'd ever not seen it, but realizing he'd been too tied up in his previous relationship to notice.

But in the end, he could have been off, and by god, did it feel good to have that worry slip from his shoulders the second Manu had gripped him by his jersey in the empty dressing room after everyone else had already left for the showers in Bordeaux, pressing close and then closer until their bodies almost became one.

Manu’s lips were pink when they separated, and he flicked his tongue over the bottom one, eyes unfocused but shining ever so beautiful. To Thomas, who had known him ever since they'd been in their early twenties, he'd never been more beautiful.

He almost expected Manu to bolt afterwards, so he the sting of hurt he felt when the blond wiggled out of his arms, rushing towards the exit and only throwing a tentative, longing glance over his shoulder before he fled, was minimal.

The way that Manu avoided him after though, had managed to wreck him quite a bit. He'd quickly realized it wasn't the cold shoulder that Manuel was giving him, quite the contrary. He seeked out Thomas' company more than ever, sat next to him during all meals and almost never vacated the spot right to his side. Still, whenever they were alone, he only offered Thomas a small, apologizing smile before rushing away, almost if he was scared of what would happen if he didn't.

It has taken Thomas way too long realize that he probably was. Is.

As it is, they finally parted at Munich airport with a tight hug that had Thomas yearning for more, arising a want to never let go of the older one go ever again in his stomach that he still hasn't been able to shake.

And just as Manu wanted to pull away, Thomas had caught him by his sleeve.

“I will wait for you,” he said, and the look on Manu's face as he nodded, still insecure but full of longing, is engraved into the back on his mind.

Thomas sighs as he traces his fingers over his cool kitchen counters.

He still hasn't gotten used to living alone, and the thought of sharing his home with the blond keeper fills him with joy, but at this point, he's painfully aware it's still a daydream, a phantom of a possible future and nothing else.

He doesn't know of the battles Manu is fighting with himself, can only guess. By the way he's struggling with this, clearly not dealing well with his own feelings more so than with Thomas' affections, he can assume that it's not a pretty state of mind that he's in.

But he knows he can't push it, knows from his own experience what happens when Manu gets under too much pressure. It's not a pretty sight to see him enraged with fury, painting the picture of an ancient war god that could crush any of his teammates with a single swing of his arms, a force to be reckoned with and so unlike the gentle person he usually is when he he steps outside of a football pitch.

No, Manu has to come to him, and Thomas has no other choice but to stand by his word and wait.

The anticipation is killing him, though.

 

Thomas' house looks lovely in the evening sun.

Manu has his hands stuffed into his pockets and is rocking on his heels as he stares at it with a glare that feels like it should make the mortar crumble underneath it.

Thomas bought a few months ago, curiously not right after he got separated from Lisa. When Manu asked, Thomas just grinned and explained that it hadn't been necessary to move out before but now, it was. (The reason for it, Manu found out, was Lisa's new boyfriend.)

So now, Thomas lives alone. Manu doesn't actually know if he's currently home and curses his own cowardice. He should have called him, or texted, or even just brought his phone to notify the forward that he would come to see him.

Of course, he's done neither, and so he just is stuck here, on the opposite side of the street from where his teammate – his love interest, _god_ – lives, and has already scared a woman and her dog almost to death by hovering awkwardly in a house entrance with his sunglasses on and hood drawn up. In all honesty, he probably looks sketchy as hell considering it's summer and he really should make a move before someone calls the police.

He heaves a sigh.

Already, it has taken him a tremendous amount of willpower to come here. It's been seven days, and he still feels Thomas' lips lingering on his own, cutting off his airflow but making it feel like the first time he's been able to breathe in what feels like forever.

It baffles him, how good that kiss was. Was that how kissing was always supposed to feel? (At night, he wonders if his enjoyment if it was due to the fact that it was Thomas he was kissing or due to Thomas being a man. By now, guesses that it's a good mix of both.)

He takes off his sunglasses, pressing his wrists against his eyes.

It's crazy, how his body yearns to repeat it, how he wants nothing else than to feel Thomas' arms wrapped around him, how he needs it like a dying man.

And now he's so close to a repeat, so close, but unable to take the last step.

In the end, the weather makes his decision for him. From one second to the other, the orange sky clouds over and it starts pouring down, the summer rain warm and damp, drenching him down to his bones in the few steps it takes him to stand before Thomas' front door.

For a moment, his finger hovers over the doorbell, and when he finally presses it, he feels the blood in his veins freeze as he tenses in anticipation and fear, but also the sheer determination of wanting to explain it all, to spread his soul out in front of Thomas – of the lovesick feelings that he's so close to not being ashamed of showing anymore.

“Manu,” Thomas says when he opens the door, his voice breathless, his hair messy and unstyled, his eyes relieved. Finally you've come to me, they say, and as he takes in Manu's soaked form, he doesn't hesitate to guide him inside with an arm around his waist that burns through Manu's wet clothes like hot coals.

He insists to offer Manu a pair of dry sweatpants and a t-shirt that would be loose on Thomas but is tight around Manu's shoulders and chest.

Then, they sit down in the living room, cross-legged on the carpet as it pours down in front of the big French door, their knees almost touching and their fingertips just a shiver away from brushing against each other.

Suddenly, Manu feels dizzy when he takes in the way Thomas looks at him, full to the bursting with affection.

It gives him hope; it gives him the reason to say what he blurts out so directly that he's almost afraid of his own courage.

“I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified.”

He doesn't dare to look Thomas in the eyes as he says it, pressing them close so tightly it almost hurts, his heart hammering in his chest so vividly it threatens to jump out of it.

It's only when he feels Thomas' fingers lifting his chin, then his hands framing his face so carefully as if he were made out of glass, that he dares to open them again.

 

It's almost painful to watch, the way Manu, one of the strongest men he knows, is clearly fighting with himself, although Thomas finds himself admiring the courage that it clearly took Manu to sit before him now, his hands clenched into fists so that they don't tremble, his eyes averted.

His words almost manage to take Thomas off guard, but instead, they are fuel to his strained heart, setting it free and making it soar until the desire to touch Manu, who still has his eyes squinted shut and his arms wrapped around himself, fearful of Thomas' reaction, grows and grows until he reaches out, touching his chin, caressing his cheek.

He frames those boyish cheeks in his hands, taking in the wet, floppy hair that is a few shades darker than normally, the blush that spreads over his cheeks and nose to the tip of his ears and down his neck.

He’s beautiful.

He's a flower that's blossoming but afraid of the rain, and Thomas wants nothing more than to be the sun that guides him home.

“Manu,” he whispers again, remembering the goalie's words, “sweetheart.”

The endearment feels alien on his lips, but his heart knows that it's right, as it's meant to be.

_I'm terrified._

“You don't have to be.”

And then; finally, he leans forward, covering Manu's lips with his own.

He swallows Manu's tiny gasp, can _feel_ the tension falling off of him, his own eyes fluttering shut when he feels his kiss being return. He smiles against Manu’s lips when those big hands come up to rest on his neck, when Manu sighs and melts underneath Thomas' touch.

Unfortunately, after a while, their lungs demand for air, and when they finally part, Thomas' heart skips in happiness as he sees Manu's smile, wide and relieved and almost disbelieving.

It's the first time he's looked directly at Thomas ever since he'd let him into the house looking like a drowned cat, and the look in his eyes is one of wonder, of lovesick infatuation – one that Thomas is sure he is eagerly returning.

With urgency, he takes Manu's hand, lifting it up to his lips and pressing a kiss against the hot skin.

And then, he finally says it back.

“I think I'm in love with you, too.”

He wouldn't want to miss Manu's smile that follows for all the titles in the world.

 

That night, Manu lays awake for a long time.

He doesn't think him and Thomas stopped touching in each other in some way or the other since that third kiss they'd shared, before Thomas had, almost shyly, asked if Manu wanted to be his boyfriend – of course, Manu has taken no time at all to say yes, smothering him with another enthusiastic kiss, feeling giddy and maybe for the first time in his life understanding what it meant to feel like an excited teenager experiencing their first love.

They held hands when they’d gotten up, walked to the kitchen and allowed themselves a celebratory beer – their fingers slotted together, their shoulders touching as they leant against the counter and quietly watched the rain. Then, unpromptedly, Thomas hugged him again and Manu had sighed with the relief of someone who finally found his happiness, letting his head drop on the younger’s shoulder, burying his nose in his neck, relishing in the feeling when Thomas started to stroke his hair in the most tender way possible.

They'd come to the silent understanding that Manu would stay the night, and they'd both giggled when they changed into their sleepshirts and stripped their pants to reveal the boxers underneath, not hiding the appreciative glances they have for the other's bodies any longer, but not doing anything about that kind of attraction just yet.

Instead, Thomas had laid down on his wide bed, the sheets covered in a colourful albeit stylish mess of a duvet that was all Thomas' personality, patting the empty space next to him.

Manu sat down with clear apprehension, sighing satisfiedly when Thomas wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him down until Manu's head was positioned comfortably on his shoulder.

By now, Manu is laying with his head on Thomas' chest. It's slowly rising and falling, slowly lulling him into sleep. The sound of his heartbeat against Manu's ear strangely feels like home, and Manu can't stop a stupidly wide smile from overtaking his face. He bites his lip, pressing his eyes shut as he grins.

Thomas Müller, his boyfriend.

It has quite a ring to it, in Manu's opinion, and he shivers when he remembers his boyfriend's hushed ‘sweetheart’, the memory of the way he addressed him with the endearment making a blush take over his cheeks in record time even now.

With a content sigh, he slings an arm around Thomas' torso before finally closing his eyes as he recalls their first, accidental kiss for one last time.

Bordeaux. Here's a moment he'll never stop being grateful for.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (eventually I want to add the gifs of where their first accidental kiss happend but I am only on my phone right now and have no means to search for it)
> 
> I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way. Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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